


Going Back From Whence We Came

by miomeinmio



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miomeinmio/pseuds/miomeinmio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kylo Ren draws into himself, he imagines a sea within. Post-TFA. WIP.</p>
<p>(Proper Summary in beginning Author's Notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I hate writing summaries, mostly because I hate having a work spoiled for me, AT ALL. I'm that person who doesn't watch trailers for movies, OK? But for those who don't mind, I'll leave this here:
> 
> Post-TFA: After some months training with Snoke, Kylo Ren is sent back to The Finalizer to evaluate and report on the status of Hux' command. But he struggles to maintain the progress made in training, especially when he discovers a back door in his mind.
> 
> Title is a quote from JFK. Citation in Endnotes.

The shuttle slowed, hovered, and then with a slight drop settled in the hangar of _The Finalizer_. Kylo Ren sat still in the pilot's seat, listened to the metal groan and settle. Outside he knew General Hux waited with a small compliment to greet him. By the book. Properly.

Ren breathed in, deeply, filling his lungs, and sighed out the air. His mind was blank. His emotions were placid.

After another minute he touched the release and stood. At the hatch the ramp lowered, slowly, in a fit of hydraulics and hissing air. After a long moment he could see Hux' face. Pinched. Unhappy.

_Your least favorite guest of honor has returned, General._

He swept down the ramp finally and Hux stepped forward as everyone else strained to pull themselves more fully into attention. His months away seemed to do little to dull his reputation aboard the First Order's flagship. Good. He didn't look at Hux as he swept by.

“Lord Ren.” Hux bit out at his side. His voice carried a distinct note of offense, among other things. Ren's step did not stutter.

 

His suite had been undisturbed, as ordered, and he sensed immediately nobody else had entered in his absence. Even could he not feel the stillness of the air, the chill, he would know from the fine layer of dust that had settled over everything. No one had been in to change the air filters. The sheets on his bed were stale.

After a still moment he sat down on the ground, back to the wall and knees to his chest, and placed his head down into his hands, not bothering to remove his helmet. The noise of the ship was too much. His months of silence, pain, training had sharpened his senses. It had made him… _sensitive_. He curled his lip at the thought. But he felt quiet and still in a way he hadn't ever, and it had made being back on _The Finalizer_ jarring. Before… _Before_ when he was nothing more than a _sniveling_ coward, _playing_ at Sith, he had enjoyed it. The simmer of thousands of minds, hearing the machinery groan and the computers hum. Now all it did was cause him pain.

Exhaust him.

No matter.

He slid his head down farther, into his lap, face to his belly. His breathing grew and filled his whole head. He would meditate, as Master told him. He would know calm in the face of chaos. He would wrench control unto himself. Pain would be his conduit.

 

The bridge was hushed and quiet, just as Hux liked it. Ren had always respected his focus on quiet order, even if he had little respect for the man otherwise. It was important for him to catalog reasons to treat Hux well. Master respected Hux.

Hux was in low consultation with his new Stormtrooper Commander. He was speaking in tones that did not carry, but it was no matter. Ren cast his mind to the front of the bridge and skimmed over the emotions there. Frustration. Hate. Disgust. Hux was a volatile cocktail. He would explode at the smallest push.

Ren did not want to approach. It would hand the power to Hux. He wandered over instead to the On Deck Communications Officer, who stiffened perceptibly as he hovered behind her. She punched coordinates in and pulled reports with rigid jabs. Her breathing became slightly quicker. She didn't turn, though, consciously avoiding checking her peripheral in the way one did when one wanted plausible deniability. The ability to turn and throw a surprised face, 'Oh Lord Ren! I didn't even see you there!' He felt the stirrings of amusement, but squashed them ruthlessly.

He was calm. Placid. In control.

Instead he drank up her anxiety and discomfort, secreted their simple power away for later, in his bones. When he was moving through his katas he would drag this up, use it to hold his arms straighter, to smooth out his swings.

“Lord Ren,” Hux said behind him, and Ren tilted his head to the side in the barest of acknowledgments. “Is there something the Lieutenant can do for you?”

“I'm simply observing the satellite pattern for the system, General,” and the girl's finger skipped to a halt on the screen.

“Ignore him, Lieutenant,” Hux snapped, and stepped up and around, into Ren's space. “I see you're already disrupting my crew,” he bit out quietly, not daring to raise his voice out of his throat with so many sharp ears about. “I thought you'd at least give us a cycle before indulging your penchant for chaos, but I seem to have overestimated your ability to be gentled.”

Ren took a hold of his annoyance easily, but his annoyance at being annoyed struggled weakly in his grasp. “Yes, your crew, tell me about them. I heard you had some changes recently.”

Hux narrowed his eyes at Ren and stepped back, motioning for the man to follow him to the front of the bridge. Ren did, remembering clearly the last time he had broached the subject of personnel in earshot of the crew, with a comment far more pointed and specific. It had been early in their acquaintance. Hux had suddenly set dead eyes upon him and clutched at his own wrist, hard, with a jerking movement, as though physically restraining himself from taking a swing. “If you ever speak about that in public again,” he'd breathed, voice still and hard, “I'll jettison you from the closest airlock _myself_.” It was the only time Hux had gone so far as to put his hatred into a threat.

Ren didn't want a repeat. Not because he feared Hux' retribution or displeasure, but because he was here to do a job. His reports on the state of _The Finalizer_ , her crew, and her commanding officer could not be tainted by the fact that he had personally antagonized the General. Master was relying upon him.

“You know why Supreme Leader sent me here,” Ren said when he joined Hux at the viewscreen. Hux' narrowed eyes did not leave the planet _The Finalizer_ was orbiting slowly, like a spectre.

“Yes. What is it you need from me?”

“Your new Stormtrooper Commander, he's incompetent.”

Hux sniffed lightly. “I haven't put that in a report yet.”

“You don't need to. I could sense your contempt when I arrived on board.”

That earned a ghost of a snort. Ren's heart shuddered slightly in his chest with pleasure, and he grabbed that feeling and choked slowly, its slight juicy fullness leaking away to nothing.

“He's done nothing to make me doubt his abilities.” Hux cocked his head to the side in an absent, jerking movement. _Yet_.

“But you believe he will.”

“He doesn't inspire grand confidence in me, no.”

Ren hears the unspoken thought, not through the Force but through the slight spasm of wide eyes that flitted across Hux' face. Captain Phasma had been one to inspire such confidence. She was held in the grandest of esteem, and Hux had even called out her accomplishments to Master once or twice, doing the unheard of honor of staking his reputation on a soldier.

But Phasma was no longer here. And Hux felt her absence keenly, Ren was sure, like a chair yanked out from under him. What could his word, his vaunted intuition mean anymore to anyone? Especially Master.

Ren imagined if he removed his helmet the stench of Hux' fear would fill the ship.

 

He lay, unmoving, in his suite. The small patch of luxury that was the plush carpet kept him up, off of the chill of the alusteel. He supposed that, if he were to visit Hux' suite he would find a chair or sofa on the General's patch of carpet, perhaps a coffee table. He thought idly of stretching his mind out, a flash of curiosity making itself known, but he dismissed with with a wave of his hand where it lay on his chest.

It was no matter.

Instead he retreated into his own mind, hearing the in and out of his respirator dull and quiet slowly. He pulled back from the pulse of the thousands of minds, pulled in from the din of the hyperdrive and the creak and groan of the decks. He needed this quiet, to wipe out the din of the ship. It was giving him a headache, so maladjusted was he still. The idle thought, _good_ , flickered in and out, but he didn't – wouldn't – explore it.

No matter. He adjusted or he didn't. Better for now that he still desired to seek the quiet, and the calm. It was what Master wanted.

Another, distracting thought, a memory, bobbed to the surface. His treacherous mind, remembering a code, an old code, about peace, no emotion; serenity, not passion. He tossed his head to the side, physically throwing the memory from his mind. He opened his eyes and let the noise rush back in, felt the press and the simmer.

He remembered again why he had liked the chaos.

 

QT-2369 had taken the name Hons with promotion to Stormtrooper Commander on _The Finalizer_. In the holos of his formal acceptance he stated to his interrogator, stiffly, that it was the name the locals gave the small moon where he earned his Captain's bars. Under his helmet, Kylo Ren had sneered behind his mask at the disgusting sentiment. Despite the doubt cast on Hux at the moment, he wasn't wrong about this one.

It was only a matter of time.

Ren's head throbbed with every unison footfall of the Stormtrooper squad he was watching drill in the empty hangar. Captain Hons prowled along the edge of the formation, his shiny, chrome helmet twitching this way and that. Ren hovered behind him, a spectre, drinking in every sick emotion wafting off the back of his head. Anxious fear, apprehension, stress fatigue, the overwhelming imposter syndrome. All of it went into the bank.

“As you see, sir,” Hons was saying, pointing out the jut of Stormtrooper elbows and the angle of feet. “This squad is fresh, and undisciplined. They're sloppy.” The chrome helmet leveled it's eye slit at his own. “But they've been on _The Finalizer_ for three months, so there's some catchup to be doing, sir.” He slapped a knee closest to him into standard position. “They're already showing improvement; It won't be long until they'll be flowing in perfect unison.” A pause. “Sir.”

Ren nodded once to indicate he'd heard and leaned forward into the space of the closest trooper who was half-crouched into standard firing position. The trooper stayed as frozen as he could, the slight tremble of being just the slightest bit off balance running through his body. The subtle reference to the length of their service on board had not escaped Ren.

_I've only been Commander for three weeks._

_This is another one of my predecessor's treacheries._

“And these are the troopers you've drummed up for a demonstration, Captain?” Ren could hear Hons' hands tighten on his blaster.

“Sir, yes sir.”

Ren turned his head to actually look at him, sharply. _No excuses._ He must have assumed Ren could understand from the coded speech. A well deserved promotion, then.

_On paper._

Ren stepped back and waved his hand in a 'go on' motion. Hons called out a drill and the troopers scrambled gracelessly to comply. He stepped back to Ren's side.

“I assure you they'll be ready for any action, sir. I will not allow any weakness of my Stormtroopers.”

Ren smirked. Not so secure then. “Who promoted you, Captain?”

“General Hux, sir.”

“Formally, yes.”

Hons was silent a beat. “I believe my orders came down from General Tarkin, sir.” he said eventually.

“You know Hux is not long for command over this ship.”

He felt a spike of anxiety from the other man, but there was no hesitation in the voice from the helmet. “I will be able to follow any officer Supreme Leader deems fit to command, sir.”

“And if that officer was me?”

A wave of sick dread. “I would gladly follow your orders, sir.”

Ren forced himself to nod, once, shortly. “Good, Captain, good. I don't have to tell you that information was privileged.”

Hons inclined his head to indicate that he did not.

“Good.” Ren tapped his forefinger once, twice, against his thigh. “Who else of your fellow officers would be so amenable to my command?”

 

Ren curled up on the ground, next to his tray of cooling dinner, holding his head in his hands. He pulled in deep breath after deep breath, holding them deep in his chest before blowing them out in a gust of hot air that wafted back against his face under the mask in a humid cloud. The fear and the pain were circling, below the surface, below the skin. He did not want to become quiet again, for fear of his unbidden thoughts.

He had hoped, foolishly, that Master had burned every trace of weakness from his body, purged his mind of brittle thoughts, but he had well known that was not the case. Master had told Ren that directly.

_Your training is not complete, not by far. You must tame your own mind outside of this ideal space to become truly powerful, boy._

Boy. _Boy_.

The word was a trickle of bitterness down the back of his mind.

He sighed and stretched himself out onto his back. There was no avoiding it. He had to rest, draw unto himself. He could no longer take the throb and ache of the noise. The only place for him was the silence within.

He must find calm. He must remain placid.

_In control._

This time, when he pulled back, he managed to banish his thoughts and brought himself down, deep into the ocean that was the Force. He exhaled slowly and let himself sink farther, away from the surface where the waves roiled the water. Deeper he went, down, low. His body was enveloped. Touched at every point by the sea within. This far in the depths the light of the surface was murky and dim. He could hear the silence pressing in on his ears. His heartbeat wasn't a sound so much as a feeling that made his body shudder and tremble with every beat. The pain smoothed out, the din became muffled and died. He faded.

This far down it was cold and still.

This far down he began to feel nothing.

And yet.

_There._

Within the dark depths he looked, peered about, and saw the dot of pure, phosphorescent white light, floating off to the side. He stretched out towards it, began to propel himself to it through the water. In all the time he had spent below, trance-like, suffocating in the crushing depths of the Force that rested inside himself he had never seen this small white light, suspended down here like a speck. As he moved towards it, closer and closer it occurred to him, distantly, that this was some small speck of the Light that remained. That should be snuffed out before it could spread and grow through and take over his cold, dark seas.

But this far down he was numb, there was no fear, and certainly not of the Light. He came upon the speck and brought his hands around it and watched it there, giving off its luminescent glow. It was small, he had not been wrong, no larger than his thumbnail, and he bent his face to it, close, curled his body around it, felt the heat of it despite the overwhelming chill of the water.

 _Destroy it,_ came the thought, dimly, and he could see himself bringing his hands together and trapping it between his palms, pressing and squeezing until it was snuffed out, its heat consumed by the freezing depths.

But this far down it did not seem like the thought belonged to him, and it did not seem to matter at all whether this small speck stayed or if it died out, consumed within.

 

Major Tak-Orl was stiff and aged, his face lined and his eyes heavy with cynicism. He did not jump, or adjust his jacket when Ren swept into his office unannounced. He had spent years in service of the Empire, and because of it, and that he had survived this long, he had his pick of assignments, if not ranks. He had seen Darth Vader sweep around Star Destroyers with menace and danger swirling in the folds of his cloak and the hiss of his respirator. He was wary, cautious, but he was not _afraid_ , not of Kylo Ren. The foolish boy, before, would have wanted to make him afraid.

But now it was irksome, and he could set it aside, burn it up in training later.

“Lord Ren,” Tak-Orl said, respectfully, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The girl in his office – the Communications Officer so recently menaced, Ren noted – reared back as Ren came to her side, in front of the Major. For curiosity he spared her a glance. She had bent backwards from him comically, grimacing. Rolling out of her was… Not _fear_ , but more accurately aversion. She would probably have been happiest if the deck below her feet opened up and dropped her right into space.

“Lieutenant, you are dismissed,” Tak-Orl said, clipped, and she saluted as fast as she could, her elbow grazing Ren's robes. That did send a spike of terror, and she scurried away out the door without so much as a glance, as though if she lingered she would be punished for the transgression.

“Tell me about the state of the ship,” Ren said, when the door slid shut behind them. Tak-Orl's eyes went sharp at that.

“I will tell you everything I know my Lord, but I'm afraid Engineering would be more helpful?”

It was one of the rare times Ren was disappointed that others could not read his expression due to the mask. But Tak-Orl was smart enough to interpret his silence, and tilted his chin up and to the side, his eyes never leaving Ren's face.

“The loss of Starkiller Base included many of our officers and specialists. General Hux has worked fast to promote the deserving and fill holes in our ranks, but we still suffer from a depleted force.” He paused for a beat and ran his eyes down the mask. “I have faith he will not fail, sir.”

“Further,” Ren said simply. The Major swallowed visibly.

“Losing Starkiller to a handful of Resistance pilots in 30 year old fighters was hardly a simple blemish, Major, nor was the loss of five thousand Stormtroopers and a heavily armored escort,” Ren said, clasping his hands behind his back and walking over to inspect the shelves on one side of the room with a sort of feigned casualness. The Major did not move, though Ren did not have to reach other with the Force to know eyes were trained on his back. “If not for the foresight that was the Hosnian System the General would not be Commanding Officer of this ship now.” He turned his head to the side. “Certainly I do not need to belabor the point.”

“Sir.”

“You have the benefit of experience, Major, and you are in charge of Communications on _The Finalizer_. So I ask you now, again, _tell me the state of this ship_.”

This time Tak-Orl did adjust his jacket, smoothing a hand slowly down the front, and he turned his head forward, towards his office door.

“My Lord there is no doubt to the crew of this ship that General Hux' cycles are numbered, and because of it his regime suffers. Far be it from me,” and here, he swallowed, as though with dry throat, “to question the wisdom of leaving him in charge at all. But I trust, that when the time comes, Supreme Leader will have no problem replacing him with someone as capable of leading as the General… Was.”

Ren meandered back over to the Major to loom large. Now, he did feel the fear, leaking from under Tak-Orl's collar, and it sent through him a thrill of victorious pleasure that he allowed himself to soak up for a moment before willing away.

“You think the General is capable, after what he allowed to happen under his nose?”

Major Tak-Orl remained wisely silent.

“And when that time comes, Major, you will have no problem answering the call to _correct_ the situation?”

Tak-Orl's hands twitched at his sides, and he quickly clasped them behind his back and steeled his jaw. He looked up sharply at Ren.

“All hail the First Order, and the wisdom of Supreme Leader,” he intoned, clear with the force of a lifetime of faithful conviction.

Outside of the office, Ren saw Hux approaching down the hall, a PDD in his hand. He stuttered to a stop when he caught sight of Ren exiting Tak-Orl's office, and his face twisted for a blink of a moment into an expression Ren couldn't read.

But he could feel the wave of fear that pulsed out of Hux in all directions. It washed over him, inundated him completely. To see Hux' face, one would think it was nothing more than his usual indifferent mask, belied with the special, frustrated rage that he always harbored for Kylo Ren. But Ren knew what lay beneath.

He could see it, slipping down his spine, poisoning Hux' soul.

“General,” he said, not moving.

Hux could only swallow and nod.

 

This time, when he pulled himself in and down, escaping the din, he floated in silence for hours.

His mind expanded, stretched out in all directions and he felt nothing. There were no roiling memories to butt up against, no secret fears and doubts to brush by. Nothing but miles and miles of cold and calm and quiet. He felt every decision he had made, every emotion bleed out until it was all part of the same Force that pushed against his skin and surrounded him in a long, endless sleep.

And then, suddenly, in the ocean, he felt it. The speck. The phosphorescent bead of light.

He reached out for it, again, and pulled it to him, bringing it into his chest and curling around its warmth again. It felt dry and arid despite the water and cold, and he curled around it tighter, brought it close and clutched it to him.

The longer he rested there the hotter and dryer he felt. No longer was he cold and enclosed in his watery tomb. More and more he felt light, like he was on a breeze, buffeted by its flows and eddies. It wasn't his calm stillness, but there was a hypnotic quality to this as well, as he let himself be dragged and dropped and shunted from side to side. There was heat and grit and it scored his skin and he felt like he was being lovingly scrubbed of every thought and emotion. Being brought to someplace new, as someone new.

That's when he felt it.

Her mind.

_Her mind._

She felt him there, in her whirlwind of sand and heat. As he flowed by her she reached out, grabbed him, and for a moment they were thrown and whirled together, hot and dry and reborn. A flame.

And then they both snapped out of it.

Ren jerked back. Back into his sea, and then up, up, up so fast that when he broke the surface his whole body levitated up for a moment, before slamming back down into the alusteel.

The wind was knocked out of him. He flipped over onto his hand and knees and stared about the room frantically, his panic overwhelming and huge, taking over. But he was alone. The dust on his sheets had not been disturbed. The carpet nearby held no footprint. The air was still and chilly.

He spent a moment, gasping, clutching his chest, then fumbling with the catches of his helmet to yank it off of his head. He threw it away from himself with a clang, blinked the sweat out of his eyes.

He felt for her, cast about wildly, but she was nowhere. There wasn't a trace of her in his head, on the ship, or in this system.

But she had been there, he was sure.

Reaching out, grasping, holding on.

The Scavenger.


	2. Two

The Stormtroopers waited uneasily in the entryway to the hangar, clutching their blasters to their chests like children. On the catwalk above, technicians lingered too long crossing from one hangar to the next, gawking.

On the floor below, Ren stabbed and sliced, whirled through his katas. His arms were steady, his movements controlled. His robes swirled around him. He danced. From one end to the other and back. It was a hypnotic, deadly display, suffused with all the grace and control and calm that had been missing from Ren before Master called him back for more training.

He focused on his movements. On the level of his arm, the next place his foot was going. He found that it afforded him a certain meditative quality that could otherwise escape him. A long time ago, a different life, katas had afforded him peace of mind when nothing else would stop the whirlwind in his head.

Here there was no din, despite the noise of the ship, no distracting anxiety or fear. His mind was blank. His emotions were placid.

“ _Lord Ren._ ”

Hux' voice cut through Ren, and he paused at the top of a swing. All at once, the noise returned.

“General,” he said, the helmet keeping the waver of exertion from his voice. “This must be important.”

Hux didn't bother to keep a frustrated note out of his tone. “You've been at this for hours, Ren. This ship works on a schedule, you know.”

Ren thumbed off his lightsaber and turned to Hux. The General stood well back, out of pouncing distance even for Kylo Ren. He looked slight in his greatcoat and hat. Where once he had worn them proudly, as props to his great theatre, now he drowned in them. Ren took a solitary step forward.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yes, Troop 4 is halfway through their exercises right now.”

“Am I no longer welcome in this hangar then?”

Hux heaved a visual sigh at that, and after a moment walked forward to where he could speak low to Ren. As he drew closer, Ren could see the thin, tight skin around his eyes, the excess of pomade that held his limp hair in order. _Small wonder at the hat, General._

“Ren, you know well the situation. If Sup-” and here he stopped himself, abruptly. An odd misspeak for a man so ruthlessly controlling of his manner. “If we are to take Granedis 12 at the optimal time,” he begin again, pointedly, “then our Stormtroopers must be ready. Interrupting their training is counterproductive to that end.”

Ren stayed silent and watched Hux, who stayed silent and watched Ren. And then, after a few seconds, Ren looked closely and saw the doubt beginning to seep in, behind Hux' eyes.

“Of course General,” he said, eventually, evenly. “Far be it from me to undermine your mission.”

He left Hux there then, turned his back on him, and stalked from the hangar.

 

Going back to the still of his room was not an option, now, not when his mind was so prepared to betray him. Instead he found an untrafficked corner of the Mechanical Hangar and leaned against the alusteel wall there with his PDD. From there he could see everyone working away, scouring joints and soldering wires. The racket filled the cavernous space and bounced around his skull.

_Perfect._

He pissed around with a mindless puzzle game on his PDD for an hour. It was an absolute waste of time, but he was waiting, and better to do it here. In another place he could have fallen, become weak, and gone back to the speck in his mind.

_You could be stamping it out, destroying it._

But would he? Ren didn't know what he would do about it yet. If it were really the girl, and not simply an echo of her conjured by the shadowy parts of himself, then a link to her could be a boon. He was stronger than her, more disciplined. He could, with some thought, turn it into a window into her mind. And what an advantage. Surely she would be a part of the Resistance. Surely. She would be entrusted with missions of great import, information of great value. He could single handedly lead the First Order to victory with what he could glean from her alone.

Until she turned it around on him.

The scar across his face twinged and his hand twitched to rub at it. He missed a piece and timed out on the level. Out of his uneasy calm frustration and rage suddenly spiked through him. His hand tightened around his PDD until he could feel the metal begin its slow protest.

_Control yourself._

He pocketed his PDD. Waited some more. Resisted the urge to cross his arms. If there was anything he had actually learned from Hux, it was the value of creating the right perception about yourself.

Finally, he saw Major Hong Rui crossing the hanger to the TIE Mechanics. He pulled himself away from the wall and moved to intercept her, and when she caught sight of him out of her peripheral vision she came to an immediate halt and snapped a sharp salute that her entourage copied precisely. Everything about her was tight, controlled, and she exuded competency. Ren was not surprised Hux had named her his Second in Command when his first perished on Starkiller.

“Sir!”

“Major. Congratulations on your advancement.”

Hong Rui's eyebrows twitched in surprise, but she didn't stutter. “Thank you, sir! It's an honor, sir!”

Ren tilted his face up at the man standing next to her, and after a moment of uneasy silence she turned to him. “You know what we're here for,” she stated, steely, as though that was all which needed to be said. It apparently was. The man next to her jumped to attention with a, 'Very good, sir,' and left with the other two hangers on. The Major turned back to face Ren and waited. She was cold, and calculating, and young. Reading her file next to Hux' gave almost the exact portrait of ambition, drive, and arrogance.

But Hong Rui was not a strategist, not one to engage in lengthy setup and planning. She would not stir the pot to create her own opportunities. She was a knife in the dark. An effective and deadly tool.

She would do nicely.

“I find this ship to be operating at less than peak efficiency, Major.” In front of him Hong Rui's jaw clenched.

“Sir, I think you'll find it is General Hux' orders that are to blame, sir!"

Ren actually blanked for a second. She watched him with sharp eyes, as though she hadn't just jettisoned Hux into space. “Your blunt appraisal of the situation is unexpected,” he said, eventually, at a loss.

“Sir, I don't expect you have time to pussyfoot around, sir!”

Oh, she would do _perfectly_.

“Then you'll want to know, that, when the time comes that General Hux is no longer in charge of _The Finalizer_ , Supreme Leader would like the transition to be as smooth as possible.”

For a moment, she processed that statement. Then she seemed to grow a few inches, puffing up on the sudden, intense pleasure that seemed to fill her upon hearing that. She held herself back from grinning at him, just, and said nothing.

“I expect you have some ideas about how _The Finalizer_ can be better managed.” She was a second from replying when he continued, cutting her off. “I expect also that I'll find a report on that, as well as a list of officers you'd expect to be essential, on my drive in two cycles.”

The Major snapped a salute that was so intense Ren was surprised she didn't pull something.

“Consider it done, sir!”

 

Hux was bent over the Communications Console when Ren glided onto the bridge late one evening. Though a galactic force was necessarily a full cycle organization, keeping their people on a consistent schedule meant everything flowed more smoothly and everyone worked at a greater efficiency. So to signify the late hour, the lights across the ship were dimmed and quiet hours were enforced. Even on the bridge and in the engines, where skeleton crews labored, the lights were brought low, and each station was illuminated by the glow of personal lamps.

Hux hadn't noticed him yet. Instead, he was propping himself up on the console and pressing a his eyes with his free hand in a show of fatigue. At the station the Communications Officer – that _girl_ again – frowned up at him. Concerned.

_Concerned?_

Ren allowed himself a private chuckle. Who, of this crew, cared for the well-being of Brendol Hux?

“Sir,” she said, finally, quietly. “We'll have to send a reply.”

“I'm _well aware_ , Lieutenant, thank you,” Hux snapped, and she looked away, embarrassed.

“Anything I can assist with, General?” Ren finally said, alerting Hux to his presence. Hux whipped around, glared at Ren behind him, and for a moment, looked as though he was drawing in his energy to throw up his usual attitude. But then he pulled it back and just looked tired instead.

“Certainly not, Lord Ren,” he replied, and then to the girl: “Send an acknowledgment and forward the rest to my PDD. We'll need to work up a statement.” He looked back at Ren with eyes bloodshot from fatigue and where he'd been rubbing them. He gestured to the front of the bridge.

When he stopped next to the viewscreen he smoothed the front of his jacket and clasped his hands behind his back. It did nothing to pull his shoulders into their usual tight line, though. “We have been hailed by a Granedis Prime Capital Ship. It is of no concern, but it requires a response.” He cocked an eyebrow, regaining a shadow of his normal haughtiness. “Can I help you?”

“I have not been receiving status reports on the Granedis 12 situation, nor have I seen the ship's status reports on my drive.”

Hux frowned at him. “I have no idea why not. Have you changed your drive ID?”

“Do you think I would have done that?” Ren said, throwing some intentional menace into his voice. Hux ignored it.

“I quite frankly don't know what you do, or why you do it, Lord Ren.” He looked off to the side and focused on a spot on the viewscreen. “I'll make sure you are sent everything for the last month, as well as included on all future reports. Is that all?”

“You haven't showered in three days, General.”

Hux became alert at that, and fixed him with a beady eyeball. “You mean to tell me that ridiculous headgear doesn't even filter out smells?”

“Do you mean to tell me that the crew has been complaining about your body odor?”

“The First Order supplies its officers with the strongest deodorant available in this galaxy for this exact circumstance, Ren, they certainly have not.” But a red flush had become to creep up Hux' neck and his feelings of embarrassment started to pool in Ren's mind. And of defensiveness. “The situation is delicate. I cannot spend time on personal indulgences when we're being hailed by Capital Ships and missing 5,000 Stormtroopers from our ranks.”

“I assumed that's why one would delegate, General,” Ren said, and even through the fatigue Hux managed to conjure up his trademark stink eye.

“You either have no idea what has occurred in your absence, Ren, or you're circling like the rest of them, waiting for it to consume me.”  
Ren stayed silent at that, and Hux turned fully to look out the viewscreen. His eyes fell to the thin white lines peeking out of the collar of Hux' uniform, trophies of Master's displeasure at the loss of Starkiller Base. He hadn't seen the punishment himself, half out of his mind and delirious with pain and sickness on the stone outside of the chamber where Hux' screams echoed off the walls. It hadn't been that bad, he knew, a sharp rebuke for failure, minutes at best. He imagined that for Hux, though, the burn of it followed him everywhere. He imagined for a man so soft and unused to getting his hands dirty, it was a sting that still had yet to wear off.

But he remembered well, those same soft, delicate hands holding his guts from spilling out his side when no one else would touch him. He remembers through a foggy curtain being held to that slender frame and having a million stupid questions breathed into his ear to keep him from going into shock.

Ren wasn't _grateful_. Hux had been doing what he was ordered to do.

But if he was dying in a snowy forest again, he'd want Hux at his sharpest. Because regardless of orders, there was no one else who had been willing to stick their hand past the shattered remains of Kylo Ren's hip and pull his kidney back into the warmth of his body.

And Master respected Hux.

“There is nothing that will happen on this bridge that I will not be able to handle.”

Hux didn't look at him immediately. But when he turned his face finally to Ren he didn't bother to hide the incredulous expression on his face.

“ _You_?” he snorted. “No thank you, Lord Ren, I've got it under control here.”

Ren's hand had snapped out to grip Hux' shoulder and turn him before he could stop himself. But once he had Hux facing him he took a deep breath and mastered the rage that had flooded his bloodstream and taken over his limbs. Still, his grip must have been painful, because Hux had begun to list to one side, as thought subtly trying to twist out from under his hand.

“Good _God_ , man, get a hold of yourself,” Hux hissed.

Ren did not let go, though he forced himself to loosen his grip. “General, that was not a suggestion.”

“I don't take orders from _you_ , Ren!”

“Only because I allow you not to.”

That caused Hux to still for a moment, and then a venomous kind of hate burned from his body through to Ren's where they were connected. Hux tightened his fists at his sides and opened his mouth to spew… something. Ren did not give him the chance.

“No,” he said, simply, and Hux's mouth snapped shut with a click and his eyes went wide. “I have given you an order. You have five hours before you are to be back on duty. I expect you to spend that time bathing, eating, and sleeping, in whatever order seems most logical.” Ren released his shoulder and forced his arm to lower down to his side, controlled. “I will remain here, in your stead, until you return. General.”

And with that, Ren gave a little push with the Force. Hux stumbled backwards, recovered, and then turned and left the bridge, his steps stiff and unnatural. When he was out of sight Ren stretched out his mind and followed him, and the trail of his impotent rage, all the way to his suite. When he entered, Ren pulled back and opened his eyes to the bridge once more.

At the back, over the top of her console, the On Deck Communications Officer gaped at him openly.

 

After two days of avoidance, Ren knew he would eventually have to take his own advice.

He still had not decided what he would do with the potential window into the Scavenger's mind. Though he had spent several hours since his discovery still and, ostensibly, in thought, most of his time had been spent deciding if he was ready to reach out and alert Master. He should, he knew. If anyone would be able to guide him it was Master. But before he had been ordered back to _The Finalizer_ Master had also told Ren that he would be expected to take responsibility for his own continued training.

_You must tame your own mind outside of this ideal space to become truly powerful, boy._

Boy. _Boy_.

Deep inside, though, Ren also had his doubts that the girl was actually there. He had, for all his cycles spent below, never once felt her presence anywhere. He knew well how vast and nuanced the Force was, that it was beyond his shallow understanding, even the understanding of Master. But we wondered if the seed of this had only been planted when he left Master's citadel. Perhaps by Master himself, as a test.

If it were a test, Master would know that Ren had either not discovered it, or was not telling him.

But if it were a test, and Ren did not bring it to him triumphant, he would be similarly failing.

Ren's head had started to throb, to his heartbeat.

Instead of deciding, Ren choked down a bowl of thick nutrient sludge and got in the shower, scrubbing himself viciously and then punching the release too hard. His thirty seconds of water was barely enough to rinse his hair all the way through, but it didn't matter. It wasn't as if anyone saw his hair. He patted it absently with the towel, thinking about how Hux' hair had gotten brighter and fluffier once he'd stripped the pound of pomade out of it. It was interesting how Hux' meticulous attention to his appearance became obvious to even the blindest Stormtrooper once he let himself go a little bit.

Not that it was actually interesting.

Ren shook his head slightly to clear it of idle thoughts.

He was here to rest.

He wrapped himself in his robe and settled on the patch of carpet. The chill, still air did not feel as comforting as it had, and he wondered if he wasn't just getting used to the noise of the ship again. The thought made him faintly frustrated. The calm, the silence of Master's citadel had been like a blessing, a place to finally quiet a mind that had never known peace. The conflict, the pain, everything that had been tearing him apart had ceased there.

There had been other sources of pain and torture, of course, things that felt like they stripped the flesh from his bones over and over until his screams had gone silent, but those came from without. Within he had finally had a blessed relief from the screaming and the crying.

He had to reclaim that, to carry that around with him. He had to be calm. He had to be placid.

He dived within, and shortly found himself sinking, lower and lower, down to where the movement of the surface could not be felt. This time he did not simply let it happen, but he kicked out, and forced himself down farther still, until he was down so far even the murky light could not penetrate it. Around him the oppressive darkness pressed in on all sides, and the only sound he heard once again was the hum of silence, the shudder of his heartbeat.

The heat leached out of his bones, replaced by the chill, and he felt that numbness spread through him.

But it wasn't to last.

There were stirrings, this far down, movements in the darkness. After a while Ren became aware of some great wave below him, making his consciousness bob against its displacement. This, too, was something he had never experienced before. He twisted around, pointed his body to where it was, and kicked forward, reaching out to it.

After a minute or so of searching the fingers of his mind touched something, grazed something. Something he had never felt before. It was not a wave from deep below, as he had thought, but a _creature_. It was the only way to describe the thrumming, pulsing _mass_ below him. Giant. Vast. His fingers, as he reached out, were engulfed in a thick, almost sludgy, oily mess, that flowed trough them slickly. A thrill of excitement trembled his heart, but distantly, as though he was feeling it happen to somebody else.

What this the Dark?

Was this the power Master said was within? That he had been searching for, for so long?

Before he could get closer, though, he felt a tug. A warm, dry hand gripping his ankle. Against his will it began to draw him up, up, up back into the murky light, away from the dark, cold, quiet he was reaching for. It did not stop, dragging him to the surface, but this time, when he broke it he held on, tightly, trapping himself within.

The surface of his sea was roiling. The breeze whipped the waves into towering walls of steely water that slapped him and forced him back down over and over again. When he was able to force his head up he saw a sky that flipped between a bright, relentless sun, and a thick, grey cloud cover. Here he could not breathe when he was forced down, and so he continually struggled back to the surface to gasp for air.

Despite the chaos he tried to focus, to cast his mind around. Her presence hadn't left, she wasn't gone, not yet, even if she had started to pull away.

“Scavenger!” he screamed, inhaling a mouthful of briny water. “Rey!”

And suddenly she hesitated, and he reached out, pulled her to him. The waves broke apart and he could see her, then, close by, like a drowned rat, in the trough about to be pulled under. She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, her hair plastered across her face. Ren realized she was drowning, panicked and out of control.

Then the wave overtook her, dragged her down below, and her presence was wiped from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kindness! I really appreciate it. The next chapter after this will either be shorter or else it will take a couple of days. The weekend is over, friends. :(


	3. Three

Hux found Ren destroying a lame shuttle in the Mechanical Hangar, no doubt alerted by the mechanics who had swiftly and silently abandoned their stations as he had swept into the hangar in a fit of rage.

He had held on for hours, pacing restlessly throughout the ship, trying to burn out his anger, but there was no use. When he had finally cracked, the dam pouring forth, he'd only managed enough control to ensure that he targeted something replaceable. No need to have Master think all his hard work was in vain by slaughtering a phalanx of Stormtroopers. It wasn't like the First Order had those to spare, anymore, anyway.

“Spectacular,” Hux drawled when Ren was finished. Next to him Major Hong Rui looked on with a face carefully arranged to resemble stone. “Major, please get a clean up crew down here, and tell requisitions we'll need another one of… These,” he said, gesturing.

She saluted and left, and Hux and Ren were left alone, him watching while Ren panted and gasped at the exertion. After a few moments Hux continued.

“I had been most impressed that you'd managed a whole week without utterly annihilating part of my ship, but now it seems I have once again set my expectations out of your reach, Ren.”

Ren closed his eyes, breathed. For the first time in hours, he didn't feel the psychotic hum of rage in his blood. He thumbed off his lightsaber. His mind was calm. His emotions were placid.

“There have been many weeks where nothing on your ship was destroyed, General.”

“Indeed. There have been many weeks you haven't been on it.”

Ren turned halfway to look at the other man. Hux looked… Better. As though in the days since he'd been ordered to bed he'd managed to start getting a few hours sleep on the regular. He had regained his straight back and contemptuous sneer. Ren had an idle thought that he'd almost missed the animosity.

Not, of course, that he had. That would require him having thoughts about Hux at all.

“There's no damnable map to be had anymore, is there?” Hux finally snapped. “What could you _possibly_ be so fraught over?”

Ren deigned only to turn away from him in answer, instead watching the smoldering remains of his target. He could _hear_ Hux grinding his teeth.

“This ship runs on order, and discipline. Both of which we've had in short supply.” Hux approached his back swiftly, but stopped behind him just out of arms' reach. His voice was as low as he could make it and still be heard through the distance and Ren's still-heavy breathing. “And if this is some attempt to upset either and undermine me, I promise you, you won-”

Ren whirled around and stepped forward in a flash of cape, his calm gone in an instant. Hux twitched back reflexively, but only deepened his snarl. 

“I won't _what_ , General? What is it you'll do?” He snapped out a hand and fit it smoothly against the side of Hux' neck, grip just firm enough to be noticeable. He was still in control. He was still master of his emotions. His lightsaber rattled in his grasp. “Pray, tell, _how_ will you stop me? Will you sic your loyal officers on me? Send a squadron of troopers to contain me? Perhaps,” Ren stepped even closer, so that Hux started to twist under him where he was held fast by Ren's hand, “you'll appeal to Supreme Leader for assistance.”

Hux flinched.

“Tell me your plan, _Brendol_.”

 

Major Hong Rui was conniving enough. She had, after all survived long enough to claw her way to the top of a fairly competitive heap. But she was hardly as subtle as she thought she was.

Ren spent the next week avoiding Hux and watching her. Or rather, Hux spent the week being anywhere Ren wasn't, and Ren wasn't particularly inclined to seek the man out. They crossed paths once, as Ren stalked his Comms Officer for a way to amuse himself and to pass some time while Hong Rui was in a closed door meeting. The Lieutenant had become increasingly distressed, and her growing emotions became an easy way to replenish himself since he had begun to avoid stillness and meditation in all its forms. But when they had turned into the hallway to the bridge Hux had been standing there exchanging datapads with a some lackey and Ren had abruptly given up his game and glided by without acknowledgment.

Ren was _fine_ with interacting with Hux. Truly. But not paying him any attention was so much more punishing for the man.

And besides, he had a job to do.

Hong Rui had, as ordered, forwarded to him in a mere six hours following his request a comprehensive, 26 point plan with 47 sub-bullets. It outlined her ideas for taking down the Resistance while also pressing the current advantage against the Republic, which had officially declared war on the First Order. Ren had read it on the toilet, splintering nutrient biscuits in his teeth. Every point had a list of essential actors appended to it, and Ren had actually rolled his eyes and scoffed when he saw his own name appear in a few areas. Bold, she was absolutely that.

His head had taken up a throbbing, constant pain. It pulsed behind his eyes when he watched Hong Rui pull a fellow officer into a side-bar from a security camera. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears when eavesdropping on the bridge. Doing his katas, at night in the empty and understaffed hangars, was his only respite from a roiling mind, but the pain had begun to stretch into his neck and shoulders until even that small relief eluded him. He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't eating, and he wasn't meditating. It wasn't that he was afraid.

He was busy.

Even so, he was aware one could not sustain themselves on the Force alone. There were legends of those who could, he knew, but they didn't have to engage in the petty machinations of galactic politics and intrigue.

One night, as Hong Rui slept soundly in her quarters and the ship was quiet, a medical droid with overridden protocols passed to him a small sack filled with enough sedatives and pain killers to last weeks. That night he settled himself on the floor of his shower, draped a towel over his head, and drugged himself into eight blissful hours of total unconsciousness.

 

Major Hong Rui was frustrated.

She had settled into her chair, her mouth an angry line, and focused on the spot the hologram of the other meeting participants would appear. Moments earlier she had received a sharp dismissal from Hux, who was sitting farther along the oval table to her left, his body strung tight as he reviewed last minute notes before they started. Ren had not bothered to listen to what their short, whispered argument had been about, but given the subject of the meeting which was about to begin, he guessed that Hux was standing firm in his dismissal of Point 14 of her Plan: requisitioning more troopers to secure planets newly brought under First Order control.

“Lieutenant,” Hux said, his sharp tone cutting through what little conversation was still occurring. “Begin the meeting.”

“Very good, sir,” the Communications Officer said, and she unhappily began the process of connecting all meeting participants. Unhappily, because Kylo Ren had decided the best place for him to silently observe was from her left, between the private communications console for Conference Room 3 and the wall. His semi-regular hovering had become a source of annoyance and anxiety for the Liutenant, more than anything else, and she performed her duties today with a comically thick, angry scowl. Ren languished in her discomfort like a warm bath.

“We're all here, let's begin,” Hux said finally, like the pompous little emperor he imagined himself to be. He held his face in his usual, superior look, as though the fact that he had to consult other people before acting was a little farce he engaged in for the comfort of others. For a man who knew his time was drawing to a close, he raged against the dying of the light like no one else Ren had ever seen.

Colonel Oberlin acted as secretary, and she started them off. “We must begin with the issue of the situation on Granedis 12.”

“I agree,” cut in General Yar Go, and the hologram of him and his officers grew larger and filled the table. “As time drags on our excuses of repair and resupply grow thin. They have no doubt begun marshaling their troops, Hux!”

“I agree,” said Major Hong Rui. “This watching and waiting has gone on long enough, what exactly is holding us back?” Tak Orl sent her a sharp look at this but said nothing.

Hux did not look taken aback by her attack, though Ren could feel a spike of alarm from him. “We are waiting, as you _know_ , for the opportune moment. The rains in our staging area have yet to cease, our men and machinery will be bogged down in mud, meanwhile the locals will rout us before we can so much as mount a resistance.”

“Then _why_ is _The Finalizer_ hanging in orbit _now_?” Yar Go cried, and there were small, mutinous murmurs from the other holograms.

Admiral Nibhanupudi from _The Striker_ spoke, and she and her assembled officers appeared to replace Yar Go. “It begs the question, General, why a secondary staging location has not been identified in anticipation of this exact situation.” The Admiral was a sharp woman, a professional, and she kept her tone and her wording respectful of Hux' position, despite attaching a bit too much weight to 'General' than was strictly necessary.

“This staging location was selected on advice from Captain Hons. If there are doubts about it, I leave it to him to answer them. Captain?” And Hux turned to the Stormtrooper. “Why is there no secondary location?” All eyes turned to Hons, and he remained impassive, though it was clear even without seeing his face that he struggled to answer. His discomfort with his new position of having thoughts and making decisions was obvious.

“We've been closely monitoring the placement of their defenses. The secondary location, at this point, is still not preferred to simply waiting for the weather to clear.”

“And there's not a tertiary location? A _better_ secondary location?!” General Yar Go said, loud and angry. Hons visibly struggled to keep his body language neutral.

“The locations we have were made in consultation with,” he paused for a half a second, and Ren knew what he was trying to avoid saying. It was noble, in a very abstract and worthless way. “Leadership aboard _The Finalizer_ made the final decision about which locations were considered,” he finished, lamely, and all eyes turned back to Hux. His fist tightened where it rested on the table, and he pulled it down into his lap.

“General,” cried Yar Go, “this is ridiculous! This is criminal! _Why_ wasn't _The Dominator_ chosen to subjugate Granedis 12?! Hux' position has been compromised, his command is a joke! How can we take him serio-”

His hologram froze for a moment and flickered. Next to Ren, the Lieutenant swiped and jabbed, swore once under her breath, and routed the feed from _The Dominator_ to another satellite. “Fifteen seconds until reconnection,” she said.

“Well, I'll wait until General Yar Go rejoins us,” said General Tarkin, and her hologram became large to replace Yar Go's swollen, angry little face. She looked sour, and sharp, and it seemed many on the call were not aware she was joining them. The mutinous whispers stopped immediately. The silence in the meeting became thick. In his lap, Hux massaged his clenched fist open, focused on the datapad on the table before him.

“Reconnected,” the Lieutenant said, and Yar Go's voice came through the speakers on a tear.

“General,” said Tarkin, cutting him off and seemingly muting him from her end. “Enough. Your complaints have been noted, and they are _not_ taken under advisement. Supreme Leader himself directed that the First Order's flagship would be directing the operation on Granedis 12. That has not changed.” She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes. “General Hux will handle the situation as he sees fit, and any success or failure will be on his shoulders. Moving on.”

Her threat delivered, the General's hologram shrunk back down to join the others, and the meeting descended into an uneasy silence. Finally, Colonel Oberlin cleared her throat.

“The ah, the next order of business, will uh, will be the requisition of Stormtroopers to recently secured planets.”

Major Hong Rui sat forward.

 

Tak Orl was sitting stiffly in his seat, eating with prim movements. He cast his eyes around the officer's mess with disdain, as though the act of eating in public was distasteful and all those who engaged in it willingly were sullying themselves.

But it wasn't like he had a choice. It was the only time Hong Rui could get her little group together without attracting an inordinate amount of notice, and he would have to lower himself accordingly.

That was the story Ren told himself, anyway. It was boring, sitting in the cramped security control room off of hallway H21-b and watching a group of people eat lunch, and he had to spend the time some way. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't meditate if he was to keep tabs on Hong Rui easily. He could have eavesdropped, if he was so inclined, but that would require effort, and the content of what was said was worth less than nothing. The fact that they were talking at all was what interested him.

Hong Rui was the instigator of the gathering, that much was obvious. She had personally visited with each of these people over the last week, trading meaningful looks and coded phrases, presumably. Ren mostly saw her clandestine comings and goings from the other side of a security monitor. To her credit, she probably could have succeeded in going unnoticed if Ren hadn't known to watch her. Starships were gossipy, cliquish places, and among the officers groups and counter-groups formed all the time, most of them petty power plays going nowhere.

But given what Ren actually knew, this group was clearly the real deal. Over half of the assembled were included on Hong Rui's list of essential personnel that she had sent along with her Plan. Two of the others were minor officers, a Gunnery Sargent and a Firing Deck Supervisor, that had been among the few names Captain Hons had awkwardly provided when pressed for them. At the time, it had been clear Hons had struggled to come up with suitable recommendations, but at least four of them had made it to the table.

Hons himself had spent the first ten minutes of the meal hunched over his tray, inhaling his lunch. He probably regretted that now, Ren mused, as the meeting dragged on and he was forced to keep his head down and awkwardly scrape the surface with his spoon to avoid participating. There was no question of the man's record in battle, and if asked even Hux would have to admit that he could whip a squad into shape, but he clearly had no stomach for politics. Still, one couldn't avoid roping him in on one's nefarious plots. As Stormtrooper Captain he was rather essential.

Unless Hux succeeded in getting rid of him. But Hux didn't seem to be successful at much these days.

After a half hour Ren's mind began to wander. Officers were allowed a full hour to eat, and it seemed they were going to take the whole thing. He had a splitting headache again, the noise of the ship still battering him senseless every waking moment. It was impossible to rest. Every other night Ren rolled himself into a corner and took a sedative to sleep. Every four hours like clockwork he found a place to quietly have a pain killer. The relief and calm that should have been coming from meditation was eluding him, and he felt himself becoming more and more frayed.

Just thinking about it put his carefully contained anger close to exploding out of his grasp. This was an unforgivable weakness. Pain and fear were his tools, the passions of the Dark Side were what gave him strength. He should have been using those to further his practice, not desperately trying to contain them. While it was true he lacked a physical outlet for his energy, Master had given him a clear and important task, vital to the continuation of his plans. That alone should have been enough to exert his energy on.

Instead he was floundering. Controlled by his fear instead of controlling it. The haven of his mind had been desecrated and he didn't have the gumption or wherewithal to face it. He'd let himself be run out, like the boy would have.

The boy.

Boy. _Boy._

His fist was in the counter before he knew it. The console rattled with the force of the impact, but remained functional, and on the screen the meeting went on. Carefully, controlled, Ren lifted his fist up, out of the crater in the metal. It was a deep dent, and would no doubt be noticed. He had, before, when he was an utter animal, left these sorts of marks all over the walls of _The Finalizer_.

That would not do.

He set to bending the metal back into a less obvious dent. _Make it look like someone had sex on it._ That wouldn't draw any attention at all. He smirked to himself at the thought of Hux sending out a sternly worded announcement, like he had when they'd caught two gunners going at it in engineering. The ship had giggled about the incident for a week, and Ren had taken special pleasure in parroting back the uptight, prim language used in meetings and other public spaces, to see the tips of Hux' ears go red and his lips go all pinched. The thought of it still made him smirk, and brought the echo of a laugh to the back of his mind.

Such a nice laugh.

Such a… Nice. Laugh.

Ren froze.

He felt the laughter cease.

Around him the consoles hummed. In hallway H21-b, a cleaning droid weaved back and forth in its quick, drunken way. On G Deck, three maintenance workers leaned against the wall, chatting while their supervisor was out of sight. Outside the ship two TIE fighters flew a patrol pattern along its length and breadth. Orbiting Granedis 5, the closest gas platform vented its port side to adjust its course to another carbon well. In Granedis' habitable zone, on Granedis Prime, the System Council finally broke for the evening, exhausted.

Ren stretched out his mind, expanded his awareness, and saw all of it. And from where she was looking in on the back of his mind, from what was likely the other side of the galaxy, Rey did too, as clearly as if she looked through his own eyes.

Ren shut his eyes.

Inside his mind he chased after her impression. But he need not have bothered. This time, she waited for him, still. He found her, her bright, arid speck, a warm spot that pushed against the darkness. He slammed his walls down around her, consciously cutting her off from his thoughts. She didn't waver, though he could sense her feelings of apprehension, of wariness. He poked at her consciousness, and she let him, but her own walls were strong, even stronger than they had been the last time he'd attempted to search her mind. All he could access were her emotions, and they were wild, varied, and so so strong.

The Scavenger, presumably training to be a Jedi under the insufferable and inept Luke Skywalker, was anything but calm.

Ren filed that information away, and set to mastering his own emotions. The wild, intense feeling of alarm that had filled him upon realizing she was there was still thrumming in his blood, and he gritted his teeth, tried to pull it down. If she was going to be observing him, he would put forward his best defense. He gathered the few scraps of steely calm he could manage in an instant and pressed it to the forefront of his walls and waited.

For a long while, she did nothing. Ren could feel her waiting, observing. Then, finally, she pressed out again, gently, until she came up against his walls. Her mind was curious, despite her caution, but she didn't try to break through them. Instead she seemed to pace the perimeter of where he had contained her, seeing what room there was he had allowed her.

And while she observed, Ren observed her back. Her strength was there, but unlike what he had thought at first it wasn't _new_ , just honed, trained. More disciplined. The raw power she hadn't been able to fully control on their first meeting was still there, but she had wrapped it under layers of locks and keys, where it waited to be taken out and examined. He sensed her nerves, and as he looked more it became obvious that only half of it was because she had willingly entered the mind of an enemy. The rest was because she was… She was…

She was drawing back, slowly, her presence dissipating from his mind like the last vestiges of a dream. He pursed her as she went, filling up the spaces she abandoned until there was no room to return. But before she pulled out entirely she reached out one last time, pressed up against his walls.

The impression she left was warm, and dry.

 

There was a message blinking on his PDD the next morning, as he woke out of his drug-induced slumber.

The assault on Granedis 12 would begin at the cycle changeover that evening.

Ren stood up, kicked his clothes out of the shower, and slapped the release three times. When he was done his head was clearer, and he set about dressing while reading the full notification. Hux had not been verbose. A Secondary staging location had been identified. _The Finalizer_ would prepare to make the jump to hyperspace at 22:00. Stormtroopers would be mobilized and placed onto their transports at 23:00. As soon as _The Finalizer_ entered Granedis 12's orbit the assault would begin. All interested parties and non-combat essential personnel were to report to the Bridge at 22:30.

Interesting.

He reached up to put his helmet on with stiff movements, the soreness of his long hours of lightsaber practice making itself known across his shoulders. He had abandoned his observation of Hong Rui and company in the light of Rey's… visit. Instead, he had locked himself in a training room and ripped the control panel out of the wall, rendering attempts to enter or communicate useless. If, at some point that afternoon and well into the evening, someone had come knocking or pounding, demanding to be let in, he wouldn't even have taken notice.

Her foray into his mind had enraged him, certainly, but it had just as much filled him with fear, and that was a volatile cocktail to be expunged. As he swung and whirled in his deadly dance, he had contemplated how long she could have been there, lurking, before making herself known. How much of his mind could she have sifted through unnoticed? Was her power so great she could turn this link into a window on _him_? Was he so weak?

The more he had thought about it the harder and faster he had performed his katas. The pot shots from the droids were nothing, annoyances, and he had deflected them savagely before finally bisecting the offending things with a terrible yell. It wasn't until many hours later he had worked himself into a kind of exhausted calm, after using all the emotions that were burning him from the inside.

And still, he did not call Master.

This weakness, should Master know, after all the others. This weakness would undo him.

He swiped a gloved hand across the console in his room and started it. He'd had no reason to use it since his return, and it had merely been a forgotten dust trap. In the communications menu he selected General Tarkin's name and then waited, while the call was encrypted, transferred through the bridge, and then jumped from satellite to satellite, through hyperspace, and then to whatever system in the Unknown Regions _The Standard_ was currently patrolling.

Soon, General Tarkin appeared, chilly and composed as always, and bowed low. “My Lord,” she said, adding a bit of flair to the title. “How may I serve you?”

“No doubt you've seen the announcement about Granedis 12, General.”

She inclined her head. “I have, my Lord.”

“Supreme Leader wants General Hux to be on hand to personally direct the ground forces in their assault.”

General Tarkin hesitated, but only for a moment. She bowed again. “I will notify General Hux immediately, My Lord. Does Supreme Leader have another in mind to lead the assault from the bridge of _The Finalizer_?” Ren smiled behind his mask.

“So glad you asked, General.”

 

Ren swept onto the bridge just in time to hear the Communications Officer – a wispy, thin boy this time – call out, “A com for you, General, from _The Standard_.”

“In my office,” Hux commanded. “The bridge is yours, Major,” he threw over his shoulder to Hong Rui and he left quickly. Ren sauntered slowly to the viewscreen and waited. Around him the bridge hummed with officers and technicians scurrying back and forth, preparing for the end of the day. They spoke in low whispers, power walked datapads up and down from the bullpens. The bridge ran well. Despite the current leadership crisis, it was organized. Everyone knew their place, and everyone was following orders. It was calm, quiet.

After fifteen minutes Hux returned to the bridge, with deliberate steps. He stopped at the entryway and waited until he could catch Hong Rui's eye, and then he waved her over. As she drew close, Ren could tell that Hux was speaking to her in the lowest of voices. He could see how straight Hux' back was. Could see how he locked his knees and how tightly he gripped his wrist behind his back. Finally, Hong Rui nodded once, sharply, and turned her back on Hux. Her face was triumphant, shining, and she cast about the bridge until she spotted Ren. This time, she couldn't keep a slow, satisfied smile from appearing.

Over her shoulder, Hux didn't look at Ren. Instead he looked at the bridge, at the officers. He cast his gaze slowly, deliberately, as if cataloging it.

Then he turned, controlled, and marched away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay all, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I have discovered with my schedule that I'll probably only be able to post on the weekends. The good news is, I moved a lot of the plot along with this part, which, while that means it was more difficult to write, it should smooth the way to faster updates. We'll see.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. I'm going to be straight up honest I have no idea where this is going to go, but I'm going to try to get there quickly, while I've still got steam. Thank you for taking a chance on me, and I hope I don't disappoint.
> 
> Un-Beta'd
> 
> The Title is from this quote from a speech JFK gave in 1962 at the America's Cup dinner:
> 
> "I really don't know why it is that all of us are so committed to the sea, except I think it is because in addition to the fact that the sea changes and the light changes, and ships change, it is because we all came from the sea. And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have, in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it we are going back from whence we came."
> 
> Found here: http://www.jfklibrary.org/Research/Research-Aids/JFK-Speeches/Americas-Cup-Dinner_19620914.aspx


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